


A New Job for Samus Aran

by Lorese



Category: Metroid Series
Genre: Alien Biology, Alien Gender/Sexuality, Alien Sex, Alien Technology, Alien/Human Relationships, Aliens, Anal, Anal Sex, Body Modification, Breast Enlargement, Breast Expansion, Breasts, Corruption, Dom/sub, Double Penetration, Dubious Consent, Erotica, Extremely Dubious Consent, Gender-Neutral Pronouns, Human, Hypnosis, Hypnotism, Large Breasts, Milk, Milking, Mind Control, NSFW, Non-binary character, Not Suitable/Safe For Work, Object Penetration, Oral Sex, Other, Porn, Porn With Plot, Science Fiction, Semi-Public Sex, Service Submission, Sex, Smut, Space Flight, Subliminal Messages, Transformation, Vaginal Sex, bimbofication
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-27
Updated: 2020-03-27
Packaged: 2021-03-01 03:35:32
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,029
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23338504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lorese/pseuds/Lorese
Summary: Full-time bounty hunter and sometimes galactic savior, Samus Aran, would like to take it easy for once. A simple mission to retrieve an artifact promises just that, but convinces her to start a whole new career instead!
Relationships: Samus Aran/Original Character(s)
Comments: 2
Kudos: 101





	A New Job for Samus Aran

Saving the galaxy wasn’t exactly a bounty hunter’s job, but that’s how it always seemed to work out for one Samus Aran. Chasing monsters and thugs halfway across space was really only meant to pay the bills, though. That’s why it was so nice to get the occasional, easy job on some completely lifeless rock. Picking up some pretty artifact beat the hell out of getting the hell beaten out of her every single day.

“Make a note, ship,” she ordered with a gesture. “We’ve landed safely on LM884. Scans indicate the planet is as dead as the last time someone checked. Atmosphere isn’t harmful to the touch, usually, but no breathable oxygen. Flora is nonexistent; fauna is nonexistent. And… Oh, fun. This record just says ‘acid wind.’”

The gunship chirped in confirmation. Samus stretched back in its cockpit, extending her blue-coated legs over a lifeless control panel. She yawned.

Environmental hazards were functionally nothing to her. Even the base model of her Power Suit would protect her from all but the harshest scolding mother nature had to offer. And for those cases, well, she was a pro. She wouldn’t let rocks and gas sneak up on her.

“Make a note that I prepared for expedition at 0847 galactic time,” she added. “I’ll be retrieving the D’Koo relic from its specified resting place now. Beginning milk run...”

Even as she spoke, warm metal unfolded comfortably over her. Samus’s Power Suit — in one form or another — had been with her since she was a child. But it still felt as inviting and empowering as the first day she put it on. The skin tight fabric of her Zero Suit meant she could feel every inch of its protective wrapping envelop her like a body-sized glove.

The energy-matter transfer pressed into her breasts, her collarbone, and finally swallowed up her long blonde hair without the slightest fuss. There was a tiny moment of excitement, where she could no longer see the outside world, and instead had to rely on the suit alone to protect her from any possible threats. Then the visor buzzed to green, glowing life and gently fed streams of data directly through her optic nerves. It was like seeing and knowing whatever was in front of her was true all at the same time — without the mental lag of a human brain processing information with something so inefficient as eyesight.

The hunter, now expecting nothing, but prepared for almost anything, made another hand gesture with her free left hand. The right was naturally encased in her chosen weapon: the Power Beam cannon passed on to her by old friends long ago. The chute leading out of her shielded ship, and into the hostile world that once belonged to the D’Koo, opened beneath her.

D’Koo society wasn’t nearly so ancient nor advanced as the Chozo who built her equipment had been at their peak. They were still around, too. The sapient species didn’t even look all that different from human. If you could look past the long, pointed ears, stubby horns, and thick tails they were practically genetic cousins. They looked a bit like devils from old Earth myths: only with shades of blue and green skin, rather than red.

Culturally, they suffered from a reputation (or a stereotype) for promiscuity. The D’Koo were mildly telepathic; they literally couldn’t help but share their base urges with one another automatically. That included the sexual kind. Not to mention it was a two-way street. If one D’Koo got… excited, that feeling passed on to nearby members of the species. And so on, and so on. It was a chain reaction that thankfully didn’t spread to other sapient races.

“Ship,” Samus intoned. “I’m approaching the front gate now. That landing was right on the money.”

There was another series of beeps that sounded almost smug.

“I’m going to enter the abandoned facility,” she added. “Still no signs of threats. And if our intel is correct, the device should be right in the central chamber.”

D’Koo architecture was simple: big, round rooms with decentralized work and living stations strewn about in all directions. What use did a psychic race have for privacy, after all?

The device she was looking for was supposedly only a few centimeters in diameter. The comparison she’d seen showed a reddish, mostly featureless jewel cut in the shape of an orb. Besides its shape, the relic was mostly identifiable by the large spiral pattern engraved all around its surface.

It was some kind of toy, according to the D’Koo client that had hired Samus. It mostly held sentimental value. It had been left behind when LM884 had been evacuated — thanks to a sudden, nasty natural disaster that spewed toxic fumes out from under the planet’s crust. 

The client was quite handsome as well, by D’Koo standards. But Samus was much more interested in the very large sum of galactic credits they had offered for its verification and retrieval. The bounty hunter was to ensure that it still worked and bring it back.

It wasn’t just the easy money, though. Samus felt for the D’Koo. She knew what it was like for something external to be a complete part of the total you. Many other cultures, including a lot of humans, either looked down on them or made daring assumptions. The bounty hunter could relate.

Luckily the heirloom wasn’t hard to find. The facility was stripped bare (either thanks to the evacuation or the acid wind). And the ball was just sitting out on a plain display among the empty tables. This really was a milk run.

“Location of the target confirmed,” Samus spoke into her helmet. The ship was listening. Even if it didn’t respond, it could hear her every clonking metal step. “Verifying that it’s undamaged now.”

She picked up the sphere. It was just small enough to fit in one of her gloved hands. With a thumb, Samus scraped away at a dozen years of dust and dirt that had caked over the spiral. A faint, pink glow started to flicker in the pattern. That was a good sign.

“Looks like it still retains a charge,” Samus said. “I’m just going to-”

As more muck fell from the bauble, its pink twirl suddenly roared to vibrant life, pointed directly at Samus. Electrostatic energy, as rosy as the rock itself, arced out and over Samus’s gauntlet. Her visor flickered.

“What the hell?” 

Her muscles tensed. Her reflexes were exceptional — trained over countless hunts and more than one near-apocalypse — but something was… off. She tried to release the orb immediately, but found her hand wouldn’t loosen its grip.

It was her suit! The mechanisms of her own Power Suit were locking down. Her vision, and the flow of data it beamed directly into her mind, was being interfered with. Whatever the device was doing, it was attacking her exoskeleton directly.

Was it a glitch? A bad reaction to Chozo technology? Or had this been some kind of trap all along? Each possibility ran through the hunter’s trained mind in quick succession, as she calculated possible countermeasures. This was nothing to panic over.

“Ship,” Samus questioned. “Ship, can you hear me?”

There was no answer. This time she sincerely did wonder if it could hear her.

Her suit was doing more than lock up now. It was rebooting, but definitely not in the usual way. Its contours, scanners, and subtle motions were as familiar to her as her own real skin. And they were definitely changing. That’s when she felt it affect her underlining.

The Zero Suit that wrapped most of her muscles beneath the metal was as much a part of the Power Suit as anything. It was digitally constructed over her natural form just like the armor. But now the suit was telling it to deactivate. Its smooth, pliable fibers converted back into energy and disintegrated. Now Samus could feel the metal around her much more closely. It was still warm, and not at all uncomfortable, but that didn’t matter if it was no longer obeying her mental commands.

The reboot completed enough for her helmet to come back online. Through her viewscreen, she could see the orb still clutched in one inert claw. The electric arcs were gone. But much of her suit was rippling with the same energy-matter shift that she saw when it covered her body. It was changing.

“Ship,” Samus tried again. “I need you to- Mmmf!”

Before she could finish, the mass inside her helmet glowed and morphed to cover her lips in a firm rubber seal. It spread across her jaw like a large mouth-guard. Samus’s eyes bulged in surprise. But it was wasn’t done.

Before her mouth could even close, another length of the stiff substance slid gently (but insistently) past her tongue. Samus was sure it wasn’t going to stop before it blocked her esophagus altogether. It did, however, ceasing its progress just at the back of her throat. She could breathe perfectly fine through her nose. She couldn’t relax, though. The long rod inflated slightly, filling more of her mouth all the way to its tapered tip.

It was… it was a dick — or a dildo, or what-have-you. But the shape was unmistakable, even completely out of sight as it was. Even to Samus, who was relatively inexperienced with such things.

“Mm-mmmff!” Samus tried to form words around the foreign object. “Nnnngh!”

It was no use. The guard completely covered her lips and most of her cheeks. She couldn’t get any air out that way. And her tongue simply slipped around and slapped at the rod.

Outside of her helmet, the changes would be even more obvious to an outside observer. Her suit was retracting. The power beam was gone, leaving her bare arm exposed to the room. Thankfully her ship’s scan was correct: the outside world wasn’t harmful to naked skin. Just dusty.

Her left arm retained its rigidity. As did her legs — to a point. Samus ran her free arm over her body to assess what this… thing was doing to the rest of her. 

Her thighs and stomach were also suddenly exposed. Two thin, metal cages remained around her hips and chest, like underwear, while her legs had turned into thigh high stockings (just as impossible to move as her left arm). The material itself seemed to be much thinner and more form-fitting. Her helmet also appeared to have changed shape. Samus couldn’t tell in what way. At least it was still recycling oxygen for her to breathe.

The pink light of the spiral pulsed down the length of its pattern, swirling toward the center. Or was it swirling outwards? It was tough to tell from this distance. Samus glanced around for anything else nearby that might aid her, but the only thing of consequence seemed to be the orb. Her only chance might be to find a way and shut the thing off.

As if it was still reading her thoughts, only much more slowly, her suit automatically raised the glowing jewel closer to her face. That was more like it! Maybe this was just some very, very awkward glitch — a glitch absolutely no one but her would ever need to hear about — and her suit was still functioning well enough to get her back aboard the gunship.

She just needed to focus… Focus… Focus on the orb. Its pattern might be the key.

The spiral reflected off her visor. It was almost like the glowing, spinning coil was being replicated and projected across her own heads-up display. But that was silly! She was in control again. Everything that happened from here on out was her own choice — her own idea from her own mind.

Samus’s eyelids drooped a bit as she relaxed at the thought. She was so focused… focused… focused on the spiral. Her hunter’s concentration was going to get her out of this one! She just needed to look at the spiral. She needed to pay attention to all the important data her equipment was now whispering into her deeply focused, deeply relaxed mind. Her suit was a part of her, after all, and anything it told her were her own thoughts as well.

The mercenary’s throat had had no choice but to relax around the warm, thick part of her suit when it wormed its way into her. Now, however, she adjusted her lips inside her muzzle to relax farther up its hidden length. If anyone could see it, it would almost look like she was sucking on it! 

But what was so bad about that anyway? This was supposed to be a relaxing mission. She might as well get as comfortable as possible while she puzzled this one out. And lots of people found this sort of thing for fun anyway, didn’t they? Samus had simply never tried it. There was a reason for that, she thought, but it was too late to worry about it now. She already had a dick in her mouth. She might as well enjoy it! So the bounty hunter let whatever reason she had against enjoying herself flutter away. It got caught in the spiral and disappeared. 

Samus, now free of such silly thoughts, tentatively worked her lips and tongue around the shaft… While she worked on the problem of understanding the spiral, of course.

Her mouth had begun to water at the sensation. Her tongue and lips were suitably slimy to slurp frictionlessly around the growth. If her ship had heard the sounds, it might worry about her in that synthetic chirp it had. Luckily the sound was muffled! That was a very smart thing for her to do ahead of time. Samus was very good at her job.

The faux cock reacted to her probing almost like the real thing. It twitched and shifted at her touch. It almost seemed afraid of her! She was a fearless bounty hunter. Finding and securing her target, whatever that might be, was her specialty. She wasn’t going to let this one get away.

Outside of her gag, the spiral was still spinning its burning, pink path across Samus’s vision. The pattern reflected off her unblinking eyes, drilling into her neural pathways.

Using just her lips and tongue, Samus finally got a real reaction. The member stiffened even more and jerked. Hot, constructed cum erupted from the tip and directly into Samus’s throat.

She wasn’t used to the experience. Nor was she expecting it so suddenly. The unnaturally high levels of salty fluid caused her to gag. Although there weren’t many places for it to spread. The rest of her mouth filled up quickly, until there was no place to go but up.

As the hunter did her best to swallow her prize, some of the cum rushed up her sinus and spilled out of one nostril, dribbling down the muzzle. Her eyes widened once again in shock and discomfort, but a little bit more whispering from the pretty pink pattern was all it took to calm her. 

Samu’s pupils dilated. The thought that she loved this taste — loved this sensation — more than the best meals she had bought after her most fruitful investigations rose up inside her like a flood. When the waters receded, her freshly laundered brain recalled these were her thoughts. She had always loved the taste and texture and smell of jizz, inside and on top of her body. Getting her face fucked was her favorite way to celebrate a job well done!

She giggled at how silly she was for forgetting. Well… She mumbled into her muzzle. A cum bubble formed around her nose and quickly popped.

How lucky was she? She hadn’t even finished the job yet and she was already getting rewarded. This was such an easy one. A real milk run.

No sooner had that thought left her rapidly emptying mind than did the armor around her breasts begin to warp as well. She was already fairly well-endowed (not that it was something she cared much about), but the breastplate inflated outwards even more. It took the shape of knockers almost twice the size of Samus’s, leaving her own boobs resting gently forward on makeshift countertops.

Various tubes and alloy arms materialized out of nowhere and reached out to caress them. Each mound of flesh felt a tiny pinprick as thin hoses tipped with syringes stung her. Sadly Samus couldn’t actually see the process. She was so curious where this was going!

On cue, data of her own breasts filled the outside of her vision. It was picture-in-picture for her brain: allowing her to focus on the all-consuming spiral and watch her titties get attention. Had she always thought of them as titties? Or knockers? Hooters, melons, jugs, and other vulgar terms?

_Yes._

Well, okay then!

Pink liquid pumped its way through the syringes and into her Samus’s honkers. It tingled and made her want to squirm. But all she could move was her right arm and her hips a bit. So she did that.

While those pumps got to work, two more ejected out from her bulbous, shapely chestplate. These had big, clear suction cups that fit over her nipples. And inside of those were strange little rubber devices: three-pronged nubs that fit over her own buds. She wondered briefly what they were for, before the prongs, three to each nipple, pinched the tips of her teats and began to oscillate gently.

They tweaked and spun and twirled — pulling at her modest pink ends while the suction cups formed a seal and pulled harder, over more flesh.

Samus moaned. She had downed most of the cum at that point and had a clear path to do so. The tingle was making her twins tremendously sensitive. It sent shockwaves down her body. For the first time she noticed that her pussy was slick with want.

Her eyes tried to flutter and roll back in her head, overwhelmed with arousal. Luckily, her mind (of course it was her mind) was one step ahead of her body, and ordered her suit to prop her head back up so she could keep eyes firmly on the spiral. She was still a bounty hunter. She wasn’t about to lose sight of her mission objective at this point! Especially not when it was so fascinating to watch.

As her nipples sang with sensation the meat of her mammaries expanded to fill the caverns in her top. Whatever the pink substance was, it was filling her up, up, up with soft, sensitive new tissue. She wasn’t a walking rack. But nobody in their right mind (certainly not a potential client) would take her as seriously as before. Not once they saw the H-sized num nums hanging off her slender, muscular frame.

Somewhere in her drooling, cum-coated head, Samus thought that might be a problem. How would she make money if nobody would hire her to catch bad guys?

The answer was obvious. She had super-sized titties and loved sucking cock. She should just have sex for cash! Even most of the non-human races in the galaxy appreciated the human form. Plus she was pretty famous these days. She would probably get lots of customers.

Except… Sucking cock was one thing. That was easy and fun (and tasty)! Samus didn’t have a lot of experience with the rest of it. She had had a few lovers before joining the Galactic Federation Army. Since her discharge she had mostly been a loner. Did she even remember what to do? Was this really what she wanted?

In response to her despair, the warped Power Suit replicated another artificial cock for the captive hunter. One bulged up around her already drenched cunt — sliding its way easily into her hungry maw. Samus squealed with delight at the fun surprise!

That finally got through the sticky cover on her face. Or perhaps enough time without a check-in had simply passed. The ship’s simulated concern warbled over her intercom. For the first time since she entered the wonderful facility, Samus wasn’t sure what to do. 

She needed to tell the ship… something. It was something important. Even with her keen mind, it was hard to focus on what message she needed to give her vessel and on the spiral at the same time. Oh, and the cock was still drizzling into the back of her throat. She had almost forgotten! It just felt so natural at that point.

Luckily her suit continued to sense her desires. It spoke for her, in a perfect imitation of her own voice. It was her own voice, really. It just exited her brain and bypassed her currently occupied mouth. Or maybe it entered her brain and bypassed her mental defenses. 

It was all the same, really. Samus was in control. She was Samus. The voice was also obviously Samus. That meant the voice was in control!

“All good, ship.” The voice was calm and self-assured. Whereas the real Samus, skewered on both ends as she was, would have probably moaned halfway through had she tried to speak. 

“Just ran into a minor complication getting this thing out of the building,” the voice added. “I’ll probably need another 30 minutes to straighten everything out. I’m going radio silent until then to let myself focus. Over and out.”

With that, Samus’s lone tether to the outside world went silent. The voice — “her” voice” — however, did not.

“Hello Samus,” it said. “Are you comfortable?”

Samus moaned in the affirmative. The living dildo in her pussy was expanding to fill her insides, just as the one in her mouth had done, and she had never been more comfortable with anything in her life.

“Good girl,” said Samus. “You’re speaking to yourself right now. But of course you know that. You’re Samus Aran! You always know what’s going on. You’re always in control. That means I’m in control. You follow my commands as naturally as your lungs draw breath.”

Samus did her best to nod. Another projection of firm rubber was forming near her ass. It squirted liquid around her final hole as it prepared to plug her up completely. Obviously she was in control. Anyone could tell just by looking at her!

“Good girl,” the voice intoned again. The praise rode the spiral in Samus’s eyes all the way down to her core. Come to think of it, it sounded a lot like the whispers that had been pouring into her head since her little technical hiccup. That made sense, of course, because it was all just a part of her. 

“You won’t mind if I explain a few things to you. You’ll listen very closely and know, deep down, that these are your own thoughts. You just want to hear it out loud for emphasis. 

“You want to know how good it feels to say and hear these things out loud — to be completely honest with yourself, and in total control of your own decisions.”

Samus’s expression was neutral: eyes forward to face the never-ending pattern, ears open to whatever she was about to say. The rod in her ass pushed confidently forward.

“You don’t want to be a bounty hunter anymore,” Samus told herself. “You want to be a whore. It’s so much easier to fuck, and suck, and drink delcious cum all day. Someone else can worry about saving the galaxy. You’ve earned the right to have some fun. And nothing is more fun than getting railed in your every aching hole by anyone with enough cash to afford a piece of the great Samus Aran.

“You’re a famous fuck doll. You want to be passed around like a toy for the pleasure of others. Showing them all how far you’ve fallen makes you so horny. All you need to do is show them how sexy you are, and let them take care of the rest. 

“Let them take care of you. Let them think for you. Let them use you and throw you away, so the next one sees how much filthier and more worthless you’ve become. That way they’ll take pity on poor, horny, washed-up you, and fuck your brains out even more.”

Samus’s mind bathed in the sea of self-deprecating lust. By the time the voice finished, she had quietly climaxed a number of times. Whenever that happened, the masses in her two bottom holes would alternate. If she came through her cunt, the one in her ass wiggled and vibrated. If she came through her ass, the reverse became true.

At the same time, her tightly covered tits were being squeezed dry by the rapidly constricting metal around her ribs.

The widgets on her nipples had done their job. They had stimulated her buds into nice, perky nozzles at the end of her torpedoes. And when she came, sympathetic little spurts of milk got gobbled up by her suit.

Samus — the flesh and blood one — found this all deeply enjoyable. It was so nice to be in charge. It felt so good to know who she was and what she wanted: a dirty little cow-slut meant to be someone’s property, bought and paid for one depraved act at a time.

The spiral on the D’Koo artifact ran its course, disappearing into the center of the jewel. So did the pattern on Samus’s visor. But the whirl remained firmly planted in her mind. Even when she blinked her watery eyes, finally free of the fixation, she saw the whirligig burrowing into her brain. It was very comforting, and very arousing.

The voice continued: “Now you will return to your ship. Return to the person who gave you this wonderful, life-changing assignment. You need them to pay you, after all. But you haven’t finished your assignment. This isn’t your real job, is it, Samus?”

Samus groaned an exhausted, contented negative.

“No,” her voice continued. “You still need to do your real job. Go to them, Samus! Go to them and do what you really want to do.”

Her left gauntlet finally evaporated. Samus was finally free to move again. And she knew just where to go.

She wobbled her way on unsteady legs back to her gunship. The oblivious on-board computer trilled. Without a thought, Samus flicked off its automation matrix, and was alone with herself again. Then she reached up and undid a manual clasp on the helmet. It opened at the back, allowing her to slide the obscene length of artificial flesh slowly forward, out of her throat.

Her tongue lolled — tethered to the tip of the dildo by a stringy mix of spit and cum. The helmet, like what remained of her Power Suit, was the same shade of pink now burning and turning between the lobes of her brain. Her blonde hair was a mess. She was covered in sweat. And she wasn’t nearly satisfied yet. 

Samus Aran always completed her mission!

First, though, she needed to fix these prudish clothes. Super-tough alloy still covered most of her hips, crotch, and breasts. The thigh highs weren’t so bad. They really drew attention up to her pussy! But the rest, despite the pretty color, was entirely inappropriate for a slut like her.

With a gesture and a mental command, Samus told the outfit to reverse. The metal liquefied and shifted: exposing and accentuating the hillocks on her chest, wrapping around their bases like rings, save for two heart-shaped slips of metal over her nipples. She thought about it for a moment… Then the horny hunter willed a dainty, dangling chain into existence to connect the two pasties. That was better.

The remaining metal oozed up her body, covering her throat and shoulders in a thick collar. She squeaked as it clasped tight around her.

Between her legs and toned belly, she didn’t leave much at all. She simply summoned a stringy thong of the same slick material her Zero Suit had previously been made of to cover the barest amount of flesh possible. Even that felt slightly uncomfortable, but Samus knew not everyone would understand her career change at first. It was better to play it safe.

With her squawking ship still silent, she punched in the coordinates to her next destination manually and opened up the throttle. There was no time to waste!

* * *

Hours passed before the famous gunship finally touched down at the nearest starbase.

Pallick stood by smugly in the drydock. The D’Koo had received a very encouraging message from their agent while she was en route. Samus had used a video call, making sure to hold the camera as far back as possible to show off her new look. With her other hand, she nestled the object they had been waiting for beneath two heaving, human breasts.

Humans usually had such cute little udders. Now hers were closer in size to Pallick’s own. Granted, the rest of her was a great deal smaller.

“Package, mmm, in sight,” Samus breathed. “Proceeding to starbase so you can deliver your load.”

The mercenary giggled.

“Sorry, I mean I have the load _you_ requested. But I’m sure you also have something to give me?”

“Oh yes, Ms. Aran,” Pallick replied in the androgynous voice of an adult D’Koo. “I’ll be happy to give you your reward. Although I suspect you want to discuss other business arrangements once you get here.”

Samus dropped all pretense then (as well as the orb, which landed in her lap). Her newly free hand vanished down the front of her underclothes.

“Mm,” was all she could manage. “Mhmm~!”

Pallick ended the call, knowing they didn’t need to string her along any further. The slut was hooked.

The device Pallick requested was a toy: a sex toy. It was a psionic prism designed to let D’Koo to share their empathic abilities with other races.

It also really was a family heirloom. Prisms like it were a dime a dozen among Pallick’s race. However, the very oldest ones grew psychic integuments with repeated use. All the urges, wants, fantasies, and fetishes of previous users got caught and remained in their filters. Employing one of these was quite the ride, if the participant agreed to it!

Ms. Aran hadn’t agreed to it, of course. That didn’t matter. As soon as Pallick met her — genuinely hoping at first to simply retrieve an item that had been used in Pallick’s clan for generations — they noticed something interesting. Ms. Aran’s suit operated on a mental frequency not too dissimilar from the D’Koo.

It wasn’t enough to do much. Combined with a weaker prism Pallick had shown her for comparison, however, they had been able to embed a few dormant commands. Combine that with the raw, seductive power of the older prism. It was a timebomb with its fuse sticking out of one ear. Her mind had exploded with unpredictable cravings, nudged in the right direction by an unknown hand and processed by the mind-machine interface in her suit.

The exit chute of Samus’s gunship lowered her disoriented form to the ground. Samus wiggled awkwardly forward, still not used to her new center of gravity, but quickly picked up her pace when she locked eyes with Pallick.

She threw her soft form around their large frame (easily two feet taller than the already diminutive Aran) and looked up into their violet, catlike eyes beneath loose, equally purple hair. Pallick wrapped a blue-green hand with pointed fingertips around her bare waist. They digits squeezed and dug into one buttock. She yelped with excitement.

“Well done, Ms. Aran.” Pallick took the prism from her with a twist of their prehensile tail. “Mission accomplished.”

Their new whore buried her face in the D’Koo’s bosom. It was more covered than the human’s, but only just. Samus’s assumption had been right: not all D’Koo were sexually indiscriminate. But Pallick certainly was. They flaunted it with an Earth-style bikini top and a short wrap of cloth tied at one hip — and dared anyone to to make a fuss.

It was a “late” in the starbase. The drydock only sported one engineer to check on single-creature crafts. They must not have known Samus Aran by sight, either, because they just shook their head at the scene of a D’Koo groping a mostly naked human woman.

Samus’s expression turned to a pout.

“No,” she said. “I don’t wanna be done yet. I have this super wonderful idea, but you’re going to think I’m weird.”

“Not at all,” Pallick promised. “Let’s talk about this on the way to my suite. I have your payment prepared there”

The D’Koo transferred their orb to one hand and moved toward the dock’s lift. As they did, their tail uncoiled and wrapped around the chain binding Samus’s nipples together they led her along that way like a dog on a leash — with the human struggling to keep up with the much taller sapient.

Once aboard the clear, glass elevator the pair could look out across an artificial night sky. A spaceborne city slept thousands of meters above, below, and all around them. But Samus only looked at Pallick.

Pallick said: “Why don’t you tell me about this idea of yours?”

Samus pressed her back to the glass, looking bashfully away from Pallick. Why was this so hard? They had hired her for a job before! They understood business. They could help a hopeless, brainless slut like her find her true calling. She just needed to spit it out.

“I’ve been thinking about changing professions,” she admitted.

“Oh?” Pallick feigned surprise. “You know you’re quite famous for what you do. That will cause quite the stir.”

“I’m counting on it,” she added. “I think it’ll be great advertising for my new services.”

“And what might those be?”

“I… w-wanna be a whore,” Samus stammered. Her face burned red, but she continued. “I wanna suck and fuck and drink yummy cum all day!”

She licked her lips.

“I want people to fill me up and treat me like their property. I just think that would be so sexy, you know? I think it’s what I’m really meant to do!”

The pink spiral squeezed tight on her gray matter. The admission was making her panties overflow with juice, which ran all the way down to the plates around her legs. Hopefully Pallick would pick up on this next part…

“I see,” they said without judgment. “And you want my help with this?”

“Yes!” Samus didn’t mean to blurt the word out loud, but the sentiment had been building up inside her since she saw the beautiful creature again on the dock floor.

Pallick’s tail twitched. This was fun. It was so amusing to watch a galactic savior squirm with lust, just for them.

“I don’t know,” they teased. “The galaxy is a much safer place with you in your current position. You’ve saved entire cultures. You’re a hero to billions!”

Pallick barely kept a straight face as they said this, looking down at the disheveled floozy with her funbags hanging out. Her lips were set seriously. Even though her eyes were dull with lewd cravings.

“I don’t care.” She shook her head. The blonde locks fell even further out of place. “I’ve done enough. Now I just want… I just want…”

It was difficult to say the words in front of someone else. Pallick urged her on.

“What do you want?”

“I want _cock_!” 

Her eyes fell to the bulge tenting up Pallick’s makeshift skirt. Her tongue peeked out behind her open mouth and her breathing deepened. She was done for.

Pallick placed both claws on her shoulders and guided her to her knees. Their tail obliged her appetite by slithering forward and pulling their own skirt down around their ankles. It revealed a sizable, teal shaft not too different from a human’s. Although it arced ever-so-slightly at the underbelly: the opposite of the one that had shaped itself to go down Samus’s throat. It was also ribbed for a few inches behind the tip.

“Why don’t you show me how much you want it, Samus.”

Once she was in position, Pallick changed their tail’s direction, pushing the back of her head gently towards the member. They reached out to a control panel to halt the lift mid-journey, pausing the duo in limbo amid civilization.

Samus was hypnotized by the sausage in front of her. The rest of the starbase might as well have been nonexistent. With reverence, but no hesitation, she slipped her lips over the mighty pecker and moaned. The synthetic skin she had choked down earlier didn’t compare to the real thing. Just the heat of it melted away any lingering doubts (or thoughts at all, really) she had harbored. This was her calling all right.

Samus spiraled her tongue around it, subconsciously mimicking the shape that ruled her imagination now. Then she bobbed back and forth slowly, savoring her awareness of the rod poking the back of her throat. Precum, or whatever the D’Koo equivalent was, trickled under her tonsils. It was a good reward for a good whore, but it wasn’t enough!

Pallick seemed to agree. Once they were suitably hard, the sapient pushed her off. Though she held on for dear life with tongue and lips until they slurped and smacked on empty air.

She didn’t have to wait long for the next stage of her on-the-job training, though. Pallick turned the frail human around and picked her up, supporting her beneath her armored legs with both hands. The tail reached out once again. Only this time it removed Samus’s underclothes, ripping the useless thing off with no effort whatsoever.

The hunter’s distinguished box was certainly open for business. It was as saturated with fluid as her thighs had promised. Pallick saw no need to wait. They lowered her airborne body onto its prepared pillar. The not-quite-human cock plunged into her, aided by its convenient shape, and seemed to fill her stomach with alien muscle. She shrieked with fulfillment — with the joy of being filled.

Despite their size, Pallick couldn’t hold that pose forever. They grunted and walked Samus over to the other side of the lift. While the alien’s breasts pushed into the human’s back, hers pressed up against the glass, visible yet invisible to an outside world that was too far away to matter.

Her breath fogged the glass where her face touched it. She licked at the condensation, unsure of what else to do. Her brain still couldn’t quite process its new, befuddled personality.

Pallick, bent and heaving over the pale human woman, suffered no such issue. They knew exactly what they wanted.

Their tail coiled around Samus’s collared neck. It couldn’t actually do much. The shreds of Power Suit still there restricted that. But both human and D’Koo felt the symbolic power of it. And once it was wrapped around snugly, Pallick slinked the point of the appendage into Samus’s panting mouth.

It was enjoyable for her. The ex-bounty hunter’s psyche had been hardwired to nearly orgasm from anything from a popsicle stick to a pussy between her jaws. But the tip was also a very sensitive area for its owner. That’s what made it so versatile. In moments like these, it was also just a lot of fun.

“You’re not going to be just any harlot, Ms. Aran.” Pallick spoke close to her ear. Her eyes crossed with concentration — with the rewired and redirected concentration of a soldier. “You’re going to be my whore.

“I’ll rent you out and wipe your brain whenever I feel like it. I’ll make you think you’re my housekeeper; my pilot; my childhood friend just yearning to share your true feelings. I promise you’ll love it. You’ll be so much more effective at pleasing clients that way. I’ll make you the best sex puppet you can possibly be. That’s what you want, isn’t it?”

Samus nodded: eyes still crossed, mouth still suckling on the tail. Her grip slipped for an instant and a glob of drool escaped the seal between her lips and her new employer’s tendril. She looked ridiculous, but she retained all the intensity of her old life in that idiot expression.

“There’s no coming back once I cum inside you,” Pallick explained between gasping breaths. “You’ll accept my semen and my ownership of you. You’ll agree to follow my orders on your new path in life, forever.”

The thrusting touch of the cock inside her already threatened to make Samus overflow. Picturing what she was about to become in such detail was too much for her. She sucked in hard on the tail, sinking her cheeks, to keep from biting as she came as hard as she had ever done before.

This was the sort of life awaiting her. She wanted it. She wanted every second of it right now.

Pallick managed to hold back for an instant beyond that. Then they couldn’t hold back the satisfaction they felt with their new toy’s response. Alien cum flooded poor, mute Samus’s innards. 

It was white, like a human’s but somewhat thicker. Not that Samus could tell. Her mind went blank with vulgar contentment. Every last thought in her head waved goodbye, and was replaced by naive contentment. This was what it was like to be used by someone who didn’t respect her, Samus Aran, savior of the galaxy. The incongruity of it made her heart pound in her bulbous chest. It was so hot!

Before she realized it, the newly minted cum dumpster was on the ground. Her beloved jizz leaked out of her onto the elevator floor. Drool had spilled down her mouth and into her obscene cleavage, as well as the material that divided her titties at the base.

Her depleted muscles could barely force her head to scan for her master. But there they were, replacing the wrap around their wide hips on the other side of the capsule.

“Oh,” they said. “You are awake. I hope you haven’t reached your limit already! I promise it’s going to be like this for you every single day from now on.”

Samus smiled and began to rise on shaking legs.


End file.
